


Objects in Mirror (may be larger than they appear)

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Making an Effort (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-28
Updated: 2006-03-28
Packaged: 2020-06-09 12:58:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19476400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley discuss making an effort.





	Objects in Mirror (may be larger than they appear)

"You know you want to," Crowley hissed. Temptation was his art. "And you wouldn't be able to if it wasn't meant to happen - ineffability." 

"But I've- I've never..." The angel flushed, fumbling with his chopsticks. He shivered as slightly curled toes ran up and down his calf outside his trouser leg.

"But what?" It was naughty to provoke the angel, but so very tempting.

"I- What's it like?"

Now Crowley was at a loss for words. With Aziraphale, he didn't wear sunglasses like he usually did. Now he wished he was. Or that he had one of those trash novellas handy - another brilliant sinful wile devised by mankind. He supposed it was the best way to balance out the printing press starting with Bibles.

"Which part? Making the effort, the results, or the..." He wasn't flustered, not a demon, not with his angel - not that a demon can have an angel, mind you, but if one did, Aziraphale was his. He decided to play this his way, the way his side was supposed to. He leaned in, so close that his breath had to be making Aziraphale tremble more. "the intercourse?" 

"Making an effort feels like most miracles, I’d imagine. I‘ve only done it since…, so I can’t promise, but it tingles a little…down there, in your nethers…" his voice turned to a hushed whisper. "And once you’ve changed, you won’t want to go back even if you do remember how."

Aziraphale swallowed. "Oh. Er. Well." He turned his focus back to the piece of squid, but he wasn’t hungry for it anymore, even though the wasabi was really refreshing at this restaurant.

Crowley waited, making his own effort not to sport a demonic smile.

"I suppose...there is the divine plan factor…"

With Crowley’s driving, he was glad his only concern was inconvenient discorporation, though he suspected Up There wouldn’t accept "I was on my way to a diabolical being’s lair to get thoroughly shagged" as an explanation for body loss. He was pretty sure Down There wouldn’t either, for that matter.

It actually wasn’t a dark pit, either, where Crowley took him. It was green like only one other place he’d seen; his second home.

A red light glared from the ansaphone, ignored for its own sake as well as making sure no one likely to abuse the technology realized what was happening.

Crowley arched a slim eyebrow. 

"Pardon?"

I believe it’s time you hop to it." He watched, wanting to see Aziraphale’s every response to the transfiguration.

Shoulders tensed, imagining the promised tingling, only to slump a moment later.

"Are you truly even trying?"

Brow wrinkled with focus as Aziraphale tensed again. This time he felt it, tingling all over, not just his pelvic area.

He opened his eyes. "It worked, didn’t it? I felt…" He looked down, now noticing a sizable bosom which hadn’t been present before. "Oh my. But…what’s wrong with this?" He brought a hand to it, testing the new weight.

A thin trail of blood trickled down Crowley’s chin – he had bitten through his lip. "Nothing wrong, as such…"

He crossed the room, moving behind the angel and slipping arms around his waist. His cock pressed against the angel’s tartan-covered arse.

"This just isn’t quite what I had in mind."

"Ah. Yes. Right." Focusing was hard with Crowley right there touching him, but Aziraphale put forth a final effort.

"Oh yeah…" The demon peeled off his jacket and untied his cravat. He’d never been undressed by someone else before, but perhaps this wasn’t so unpleasant.

Crowley nudged until Aziraphale turned. He started on the buttons to his own slick shirt. It was a pure black, a sucking black, the kind only a demon could manage.

He waited, watching uncertainly, until he realized he was supposed to be doing the same. He grew self-conscious. He was a little soft in the tummy and Crowley would notice if he fixed that now.

Crowley smirked, eyes twinkling in a way that would have warned a less preoccupied angel. Then he tugged the shirt open, buttons hitting the floor except one determined to stay, one that now hung more than an inch from where it had been sewn.

"I liked that shirt!"

"My bad. Punish me?" He used his innate abilities to remove the rest of their clothes before he managed to get in more trouble. Being more vain than strictly necessary, there were mirrors surrounding them as he started walking backwards down a narrow corridor.

"So that’s what it looks like…" Curiosity fulfilled, the angel looked thoughtful as he followed Crowley to the bedroom. Their views on punishment were different enough to make this tough. He walked around the bed, looking at it from all angled while he pondered.

"Perhaps at a later time," he pronounced finally. "I believe you already owe me lessons today."

Crowley pinned him to the mattress. "Oh yes…I’ll teach you… _angel_." The word was both insult and endearment from him. Aziraphale leaned up and kissed him."And then maybe you’ll actually learn to read your surroundings."

Crowley talked him through it as well as demonstrating, usually on Aziraphale himself. Aziraphale flushed a painful red, suddenly understanding why reproduction was in the hands of the creations instead of being personally handled by his boss each time. By the time they got to the truly interactive part of the lesson, he would have been breathless and possibly dead were he mortal.

He remembered back when even the mortals weren’t mortal, but it wasn’t the same. Temptation had changed since then, since he shared a home with the snake he was now in bed with.

The plants shivered loudly, leaves rattling as they watched, shocked, as their master grew weak with this other entity. It was only one long moment, then an arm was holding Aziraphale in place. "Now’s the part where we sleep. There’s room."

He lay back down, for once feeling like he understood the world, though he knew the feeling might be gone before he woke again.

**Author's Note:**

> reposting an old fic that I can't even find the original posting date for, that's how old it is! I mean my fic blog says 2006 but based on the date and time I suspect I was migrating fic there and it already a reposting at that juncture.
> 
> I half reread it and went "well it's not the worst thing ever, might as well" so *shrug*


End file.
